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From Cowboy Songs WHATS become of the punchers | |
| We rode with long ago? | |
| The hundreds and hundreds of cowboys | |
| We all of us used to know? | |
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| Sure, some were killed by lightning, | 5 |
| Some when the cattle run; | |
| Others were killed by horses | |
| And some with the old six-gun; | |
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| Those that worked on the round-up, | |
| Those of the branding-pen, | 10 |
| Those who went out on the long trail drive | |
| And never returned again. | |
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| We know of some who have prospered, | |
| We hear of some who are broke, | |
| My old pardner made millions in Tampa, | 15 |
| While Ive got my saddle in soak! | |
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| Sleeping and working together, | |
| Eating old Cussies good chuck, | |
| Riding in all kinds of weather, | |
| Playing in all kinds of luck; | 20 |
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| Bragging about our top-hosses, | |
| Each puncher ready to bet | |
| His horse could outrun the bosss, | |
| Or any old hoss you could get! | |
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| Scott lies in Tularosa, | 25 |
| Elmer Price lies near Santa Fe, | |
| While Randolph sits here by the fire-side | |
| With a flat-face on his knee. | |
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| Gene Rhodes is among the high-brows, | |
| A-writin up the West; | 30 |
| But I know a lot of doins | |
| That he never has confessed! | |
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| He used to ride em keerless | |
| In the good old days | |
| When we both worked together | 35 |
| In the San Andrays! | |
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| Building big loops we called blockers, | |
| Spinning the rope in the air; | |
| Never a cent in our pockets, | |
| But what did a cow-puncher care? | 40 |
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| Im tired of riding this trail, boys, | |
| Dead tired of riding alone | |
| Blieve Ill head old Button for Texas, | |
| Towards my old Palo Pinto home! | |
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